


Forbidden

by DevilJesus



Category: ONEUS
Genre: Keonhee/Hwanwoong, M/M, Valkarie!Geonhak, Valkyrie - Freeform, Vampires, stream Oneus people, this is based loosely from TBONTB, vampire!youngjo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26255734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilJesus/pseuds/DevilJesus
Summary: “So much fight in you, why must you do this?” The Valkyrie looked to the side, the action made Youngjo growl threateningly. “Look at me.”Those blue orbs landed back on him as the Valkyrie growled darkly. “The Valkyrie did nothing wrong.”“If you cause trouble in my kingdom, I will know about it. Do not lie to me.” Youngjo knew just how stubborn the Valkyrie prince was.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Kim Youngjo | Ravn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Forbidden

Youngjo sighed as he glanced over the map laid out across the table before him. Being the crowned vampire prince was an honour but it could also become stressful.   
Sat opposite him was Keonhee, the prince of the vampire coven to the south, beside him sat his consort; Hwanwoong. 

“The borders are becoming thinner,” Keonhee was saying, a worried look on his face. “I know the Oneus treaty means we will protect each other but my people grow restless.”

“I understand your worries but please inform your people that everything is under control.” Youngjo replied back, trying to entrust confidence in the younger vampire. Recently, they’d been an increase in attacks, both Youngjo and Keonhee had no knowledge of who was perpetrating the violent acts. 

Suddenly, the doors opened to reveal his two most valued knights. Dongju and Seoho. “Your majesty,” the orange haired knight bowed his head as he spoke. Keonhee and Hwanwoong looked over at them curiously too. 

“Seoho-yah, What is it?” Youngjo asked, knowing full well they wouldn’t interrupt him unless it were important. 

“It’s the Valkyrie’s again...” Seoho answered. 

Youngjo frowned. “What do you mean?” Vampires and Valkyries has always been at a disagreement, although mostly the same creatures, the vampire population was more. Valkyries were vampires that had evolved. 

“They’re causing a ruckus in the town, your majesty,” Dongju explained. 

Youngjo sighed and shook his head, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He held his hands together in front of his face and could feel his eyes flash red. Seoho and Dongju took cautious steps back. 

“Bring him to me.”

The two knights looked over at each other before Seoho approached the vampire prince again. “Your majesty..?”

“He knows the boundaries.” Youngjo growled, already feeling his fangs itch where they sat against his lips. 

“As you wish,” the two bowed before they made their way out of the throne room. 

“He has too much free reign in your lands,” Keonhee commented. Youngjo growled back at him making the younger prince flinch slightly. He bowed his head in apology. “I apologise but I am still concerned for you Hyung.” He said with soft eyes. 

“That Valkyrie has tried to kill you before...” Hwanwoong added. 

Youngjo nodded, like he could ever forget. “He is my responsibility, I will see to him and his people.” With that he made his way out of the room and towards the main hall. 

♾ 

“Geonhak-ah, is this how you want to behave?”

The Valkyrie prince before him was thrashing as he was held back, his pure white hair falling into his angered blue eyes. “Release me!” Geonhak's lips twisted in derision. Lips that Youngjo had tasted before, for a night and a morning. 

“You know the agreement passed down by our fathers,” Youngjo lifted his head, eyes watching Geonhak’s expression closely. “Do you intend to disrespect them?”

“You talk high of disrespect,” Geonhak growled back, his gravelly voice dark. 

The two knights holding him held tighter. “Address the Prince respectfully!” One of them warned. 

Youngjo smirked at the Valkyrie’s rebellious attitude, he walked down the steps from his throne and towards the creature before him. “So much fight in you, why must you do this?” The Valkyrie looked to the side, the action made Youngjo growl threateningly. “Look at me.”

Those blue orbs landed back on him as the Valkyrie growled darkly. “The Valkyrie did nothing wrong.”

“If you cause trouble in my kingdom, I will know about it. Do not lie to me.” Youngjo knew just how stubborn the Valkyrie prince was. 

Geonhak remained silent; his piercing blue eyes were glaring wildly at Youngjo as he growled under his breath. Youngjo gripped his chin and forced the Valkyrie to look up at him, Geonhak’s eyes widened slightly but he still continued growling. 

“Show me.” Youngjo’s voice lowered as he gazed over the dangerously alluring creature, he could see the fight in Geonhak’s eyes falter slightly. 

“What?”

Youngjo moved his thumb sensually over Geonhak’s chin and toward his bottom lip. He moved closer, eyes flashing red. “Your wings, I want to see them,” Youngjo growled. 

Geonhak’s eyes widened and he quickly pulled his face away. “Fuck you,” he spat. The knights tightened their grip on Geonhak making the Valkyrie thrash against them. 

Youngjo narrowed his eyes before he nodded to the knights beside Geonhak, “take him to my chambers.”

The knights nodded as they hauled off the struggling Valkyrie. Youngjo released a breath and bit his lip, unintentionally making it bleed as his fang sank in too deep. The Valkyrie had always made Youngjo’s life more interesting. 

♾ 

"Release me," Geonhak bit out, emphatically. His voice was too steady, too careful.

"No," Youngjo replied. "You're here for a reason."

Geonhak laughed, a shaky sound. It was a mock laugh, and it seemed to hang in the space between them, even as the Valkyrie continued. "Leave, Ravn. I do not desire company, least of all yours."

Youngjo had to hold back a flinch at that, the syllables of his pure vampiric name a reminder of who he was and what was still raw between them. He forged on. "This is my home.”

“Then let me return to my own," Geonhak shot back. He was chained by the ankle to Youngjo’s large bed. 

“I cannot have you and the Valkyrie’s destroying my kingdom,” Youngjo shot back. He could see Geonhak’s eyes watching him closely as he moved about the chambers. “We have an agreement that I hope you will respect.”

“When you’re people respect us then we will show them the same curtesy.” Geonhak’s voice was serious and full of emotion. 

Youngjo sighed, “I know you well enough to know that, Geonhak-ah."

Geonhak's knuckles were tight where his fingers clutched the bedsheet beneath him. His jaw was stiff, as was his posture. He seemed, impossibly, paler than he usually was.

"You know me?" Geonhak echoed. "Don't deceive yourself."

Youngjo's reply was firm. "I don't."

Geonhak’s lips curled in a snarl. Lips that were too bloodless, worryingly so. "You don't know me."

Youngjo took a step towards Geonhak, who tensed further. "But I want to."

Geonhak closed his eyes as if in pain. He said, "Go away, Ravn. I will not beg."

"Nor do I expect it from you." Youngjo continued his approach, slowly, deliberately. He stopped at an arm's distance from Geonhak. "Tell me," he began, "what is wrong."

Without opening his eyes, Geonhak replied. "It does not concern you."

"You concern me." Youngjo reached out and put a hand over Geonhak's bicep. He felt the tension in the muscle, the obstinacy of the restraint. "Are you hurt?"

"I am not."

"Then—"

"Leave." Geonhak jerked his arm from Youngjo’s grip. It left him unsteady, and he stumbled a bit on his knees, sideways.

Youngjo caught the Valkyrie with his hand again, righted him, frowned at his hiss of breath. Geonhak hung his head, breathing strenuously and blond tresses fall over his face. 

"Geonhak-ah," Youngjo said, imploringly. His fingers tightened over the smooth fabric of Geonhak’s white silk shirt. 

Youngjo leaned his head closer and, squinting, noticed that a red stain marred Geonhak’s mouth, spreading along the folds of his lips, stark against the white colour of his face. He'd bitten his own lip. 

Youngjo's other hand went up to cup Geonhak's jaw, and the smallest shudder seemed to pass through the Valkyrie. Geonhak's expression was a mix of a frown and a grimace. Youngjo's thumb moved to brush over Geonhak's bottom lip, thinning the blood into a smear. He’d tasted that blood before. 

Youngjo felt the wisp of warm breath on the tip of his thumb when Geonhak's lips parted. Geonhak's breaths were shallow, hurried. Youngjo did not move, did not speak when Geonhak tilted his head slightly, angling his jaw, took Youngjo's thumb a bit between his lips and, slowly, as if giving the vampire a warning, a chance to pull away, sank an fang into the side of Youngjo's thumb.

It wasn't painful, beyond the sting of the initial prick. Youngjo couldn’t stop the smirk from appearing on his face. He held himself as still as possible, afraid that if he moved, Geonhak would react like a startled animal and recoil. 

As he watched, waited, Geonhak seemed to grow steadier against his hands, though his body still carried the tension it always did. When Youngjo glanced down, he saw that Geonhak's hand had relaxed somewhat against the bedsheet.

Youngjo's gaze flicked back up to find Geonhak's eyes open, a narrow, wary, slightly fevered glint in them. There was a reddish tint to Geonhak's usually blue irises, making them appear an exotic purple. 

Geonhak held Youngjo's gaze as he dislodged the vampire’s thumb from his mouth, leaving the tip wet and chilly in the soft draughts of Geonhak's breaths.

"Did you enjoy that?” Youngjo asked. 

"Yes." Geonhak's tongue darted out to lap at the bead of red welling from the wound in Youngjo's thumb.

"You know drinking my blood is against the vampiric law," Youngjo stated quietly.

Geonhak raised a delicate brow. "Are you finally going to have me executed?”

Youngjo swallowed. The thought of losing the Valkyrie prince did not sit well with him. “Never.”

Geonhak just stared at him for a moment, and then he laughed, the mildly disbelieving sound a puff of air on Youngjo's thumb, which was still in front of the Valkyrie’s mouth. "Is that all you've to say?"

Youngjo slid the hand pressed against Geonhak's jaw to cup the back of the Valkyrie’s neck, a movement that pulled them closer together. "Do you need more?" he asked. What, he didn't say.

It made Geonhak laugh again, another sharp, short sound. A hint of incredulity. "You'll let me,” Geonhak said. 

"Yes," Youngjo immediately replied.

Geonhak closed his eyes again, took a breath and, as his eyelids lifted slowly, said it like a dare. "Kiss me."

Youngjo didn't, couldn't, refuse. He leaned down and pressed his lips over Geonhak's. He could taste his own blood in Geonhak's mouth. 

One of Geonhak's arms wound around his neck. Youngjo moved his lips slowly, careful in his exploration. He could feel Geonhak's answering restraint. It began as a tentative kiss, as uncertain as their first, on the night they had first laid eyes on each other. When treaties and wars were the problems of their fathers. 

Gradually, Youngjo felt Geonhak’s mouth grow insistent, questing, and he responded in kind, granting Geonhak entrance. A shiver travelled down his spine when he felt Geonhak's fangs against his bottom lip, he pressed back upwards, letting sharp points break open the surface.

With Geonhak's fangs locked onto Youngjo’s mouth, the kiss was put on a strange sort of pause. Their mouths remained in contact, but neither of them moved. Youngjo tasted his own. Blood must have leaked from where Geonhak was feeding from him.

Geonhak was feeding from him. 

The thought was invigorating, going against his own fathers laws in allowing the Valkyrie to take his precious pure vampiric blood. The sensation coming from his lip, Youngjo found himself aroused, and pressed to Geonhak as he was, he was sure that the Valkyrie could feel it.

Geonhak pulled back after running his tongue over the fresh wounds on Youngjo's lip, and they were both flushed and breathing quickly.

"You—" Geonhak began, stopped. "Should I stop?”

"No."

Tersely, Geonhak shot back, "I asked you to leave."

"I said no."

Geonhak asked, pained, "Why?"

"I couldn't." Youngjo's hand tightened over Geonhak's nape.

"You hate me," said Geonhak, but it was hollow, they both know it wasn't true. "My people are against you. You should."

"I kill your people," Youngjo replied. "You should hate me too."

Youngjo could not describe Geonhak's eyes as anything other than unreadable, but they made his heart hurt all the same. "I hate you." He said, as if in pained amendment, "I hated you so badly I thought I'd choke on it. And then you saved my life, and every time I needed you, you were there, and I hated you for that, too." A ragged, broken breath. "I wanted so badly to hate you."

The room was very quiet. They did not hear anything beyond the walls, but a castle was never silent, even this late into the night. Outside, guards made their rounds, knights patrolled, stars blinked their promises to one another, but they were too far away for anyone to notice.  
"Is there no way forward for us?" Youngjo asked.

"You mean, will I present myself on your bed for you?" Geonhak was holding himself very still.

"I mean that we hold each other forever. Can we not call it a kingdom and rule it together?" 

He said no more than that, though there were many more words crowding in his chest, forming questions and confessions and even pleas. He waited, and it hurt to do it.

"I am a Valkyrie and you a vampire." Geonhak replied with a grimace, like he didn't like the flavour of the words on his tongue.

"What difference does that make?"

"I could hurt you, I can hurt you," said Geonhak. "I am dangerous."

"Yes," said Youngjo, "I think we've already established that you could kill me. But you didn't, and now, you wouldn't."

"How can you trust me, after all that has happened?"

"I think," Youngjo paused, tasting the terrifying truth in the words that followed, "that if I gave you my heart, you would treat it tenderly."

Geonhak turned his head, denying Youngjo his expression. Youngjo could see the rise and fall of his chest, could feel the whispers of his breaths in the space between them. 

"I should hate you," Geonhak said, and for a moment Youngjo thought they were back to that deadlock. Then the Valkyrie spoke softly, "but when you make love to me like that, I can't think."

The admission made Youngjo's heartbeat trip. "Don't think," he said, then he said it again.

"Don't," Geonhak growled, "toy with me."

"I don't toy with you."

"I—" Geonhak stopped and looked up, meeting Youngjo's stare. Geonhak's eyes still carried a red glare, and from beneath his lips, Youngjo could glimpse the pointed tips of Geonhak's teeth. Teeth that had, minutes ago, been sunk and feeding from Youngjo’s forbidden blood. 

"Don't think," said Youngjo, his voice was breathy and mesmerising. His hand moved to the clasp around Geonhak’s ankle, releasing him from the restraint. 

"Kiss me," Geonhak replied, "again." The words seemed to have been blurted, almost awkward. Geonhak's body sang with tension, and Youngjo knew there was a struggle taking place in his mind.

Gently, Youngjo pried Geonhak's fingers from the bedsheet and brought the Valkyrie’s hand up towards himself, then kissed his knuckles, once. Geonhak's fingers were cold, incongruous with the mellow warmth of the season.

Geonhak's eyes were dark, uncertain; that had not been what he'd been asking for with his request. "I meant—"

Instead of continuing, Geonhak pulled Youngjo close and slotted their mouths together, the series of movements quick but hesitant.

There was at first a dull pain when their mouths met, from pressure on the wounds on Youngjo's lip, but soon the wet warmth of the kiss overtook that, and Youngjo wondered briefly if, like several stories claimed, Valkyrie saliva really did have anaesthetic effects. He felt the exquisite sensation of Geonhak's lips and tongue too clearly for that to be true.

Geonhak's body was tight in his arms, almost as if he was in pain, caught between guilt and relief, resistance and surrender. "Youngjo," he said, breath quick against Youngjo's mouth.

Youngjo found himself waiting for the bite, the prick of the penetration of Geonhak's incisors, but that seemed not to be the Valkyrie's intent. The rest of Youngjo felt a selfish satisfaction that Geonhak knew it was him. Geonhak wanted this with him.

Youngjo pressed Geonhak onto the bed, held his own body over Geonhak's. Geonhak’s fingers were in his black hair, tight against his scalp. He ran his hand down Geonhak's tight-laced clothing, impatient but too distracted to actually undo anything. The Valkyrie's kisses were open-mouthed, but there was a careful quality to them. 

It was almost like, with his fangs out, Geonhak was afraid of accidentally drawing blood. Youngjo felt an absurd fondness at that realisation, being a vampire he could control his fangs more. 

He pushed past the part of Geonhak's lips and ran his tongue over the tips of the Valkyrie's teeth, feeling exhilarated at the tantalising scrape of sharp points on soft flesh. Beneath him, he felt Geonhak go still.

It wasn't until Youngjo drew back his tongue that Geonhak began responding in earnest again, and now their kiss was less cautious. Geonhak remained tense, but there was a controlled vulnerability seeping through as well, an indulgent demand. 

Youngjo was hard, and when his hips pressed down, seeking more through the layers of clothing between them, he felt Geonhak's answering arousal, a soft shudder running through the Valkyrie's body at the contact.

With a sudden push and a growl, Youngjo let Geonhak manoeuvre them so that the Valkyrie sat astride Youngjo's hips, his knees on either side of Youngjo's torso. The kiss had broken during their movements; Geonhak's breaths passed through his parted lips, his eyes dark and severe and unblinking. 

Youngjo gazed up at the beautiful creature above him, his hands came to rest on Geonhak’s strong thighs as he looked up at him. 

“Show them to me.”

Youngjo knew the sacred treasure of a Valkyrie’s wings, Geonhak glanced down at him with his blue eyes sparkling. Youngjo watched in amazement as Geonhak’s back arched before pure black wings sprouted from his back. The wingspan was the length of Youngjo’s bed. The black feathers glistening in the soft light of the room. 

The angle also offered Youngjo a clear view of Geonhak's fangs, they looked sharper than they had felt against Youngjo's tongue; long, white daggers dropping like stalactites from the roof of the Valkyrie’s mouth. He didn’t remember them ever being like that. 

Everything about Geonhak screamed lethal, Youngjo found him irrationally beautiful.

There was a question in their postures, and Youngjo answered it without words, drawing Geonhak down for something briefer than a kiss. It was Geonhak's turn to answer.

Geonhak's fingers didn't fumble as he tugged the gold pin from Youngjo's shoulder, where it held Youngjo's prince attire in place. Geonhak's hands pulled the fabric down, open, off. For a few seconds Geonhak simply rested his hands on Youngjo's bare chest, like he was taking in the warmth of the pure vampire prince's skin. 

Youngjo was acutely aware of the unfamiliar disparity of their positions. Astride him, Geonhak with his wings spread out, still in his high-necked silk shirt, secured with tightly laced ties, his polished boots still tied over his feet. And Youngjo, exposed underneath him, vulnerable. Well as vulnerable as he would allow himself. 

Their gazes were locked on each other as Geonhak lifted his hands off Youngjo's chest and to his own neck. Slowly, he took the end of one of the laced ties at his throat and pulled, drawing it down and away.

The reality of who they were, what they were, was there between them, the confession blunt and painful, too long overdue. 

This was the man who had rebelled against him. Those years ago when he’d set his people in an almost war with Youngjo’s own. This was the Valkyrie prince, his people’s enemy. 

Youngjo could see the flutter of Geonhak's shallow, quivering breath. He could feel his intention, different in this moment, yet Youngjo felt as he did whenever he was the object of Geonhak's deliberation, of his unspeaking dark-eyed gaze. 

Geonhak was undressing for him, one lace after another, always cautious of his wings, how he managed to undress Youngjo didn’t know. The silk shirt came off first to reveal the thin white shirt underneath, fine enough that Youngjo could see a newly healed wound on Geonhak's shoulder. 

Geonhak's chest rose and fell with his breaths, and his throat moved as he swallowed. He reached back and drew off his shirt.

The sight of the Valkyrie's skin sent an acute shock of desire through Youngjo. He wanted to reach out, up, and run his hands over it. To put his palm over Geonhak's chest and remind himself again of the presence of a beating heart. 

Youngjo’s hands went to Geonhak's waist, a surprisingly slender, fragile-seeming thing, his thumb drawing simple patterns over the tight skin. The muscles of Geonhak's stomach and abdomen were taut in tension.

"I know who you are," Geonhak said, sounding half like he was trying to talk himself out of something and half like he was trying to reassure Youngjo of something else. "I know who you are. Youngjo."

"Geonhak-ah," Youngjo said, and sat up then. He felt like he was burning where they touched, despite the inexplicable coolness of their skin.

Geonhak slid a little so that he was straddling Youngjo's lap. He traced his fingers over the scar on Youngjo’s chest, where his own sword had pierced Youngjo, their past was always there; threatening between them. 

Yet in the dim light there was more than just their heritage between them, and when they kissed, it hurt them both. And perhaps because they were both selfish in their desperation, it was a messy, unsteady joining. Geonhak jerked back when the sweet tang of blood blossomed between their lips. His eyes were wide, alarmed, as he took in the sight of the corner of Youngjo's mouth, stained red from a purposeful scratch of Geonhak's tooth. 

A scarlet smear of Youngjo's blood was mirrored on the side of Geonhak's mouth, and, as if unconsciously, Geonhak licked his lips, lapping at the redness.

The Valkyrie did not apologise, and Youngjo didn’t demand one. Instead, he pulled Geonhak back towards him, tilted his head, and drew their mouths close. Almost offering his lips, he said, "Clean it up."

Geonhak stared at him, and there was another internal battle before he finally leaned in and, not breaking Youngjo's gaze, began to lick at the drying blood on the vampire prince’s lips. It quickly devolved into another kiss, and then Geonhak's boots were pulled off, the silk of his clothes pushed away.

Between them, their cocks brushed against each other in blissful sensation. Geonhak let out a quiet gasp, his wings fluttering softly, then, voice breathless, "I want it. I want—" He thrust with painful restraint against Youngjo, searching. He grasped Youngjo's fingers in his and reached behind himself, urging towards the place where he wanted them.

"We can't, we don't have—"

Geonhak grabbed the shallow cup of scented oil from the bedpost and pressed it forcefully into Youngjo's hand. Slippery liquid sloshed from the rim of the small container, running down Youngjo's fingers. An overpowering floral scent wafted around them.

Youngjo spread the oil over his fingers, the liquid cold from sitting stagnant in the cup. He reached back around Geonhak, ran his finger around the entrance in small, massaging circles, and felt Geonhak shudder, pushing down onto his hand. The tip of Youngjo's finger slid in.

Geonhak's entire body seemed to hitch in tandem with his breath when Youngjo's fingertip ran over that special place inside him. Geonhak's body was slackening and tensing with a rhythm that was somehow still familiar to Youngjo. It was unexpectedly warm where Youngjo's finger was; the cocoon of heat was slick, and tight, but beginning to loosen, to become accustomed to the intrusion. 

Youngjo curled his finger slightly as he slid it outward, slow, dragging it deliberately over Geonhak's sensitive spot, and Geonhak made a helpless sound. When Youngjo pushed back in again, it was with two fingers.

Geonhak took in a shivering breath and leaned his forehead onto Youngjo's shoulder, his snowy hair caressing Youngjo's skin, tickling his neck. Youngjo turned his head slightly and kissed up along the line of Geonhak's nape. Knowing the skin almost like second nature, his own fangs having marred the beautiful skin before. He took the shell of Geonhak's ear between his lips, and let his fangs scrape gently over the cartilage. Geonhak exhaled a sharp puff of air against Youngjo's shoulder, then his fingers wrapped tentatively around their erections and began stroking over both of them.

A quiet groan escaped Youngjo's mouth, and he couldn't help thrusting into Geonhak's grip, slippery from handling the scented oil, even as his own fingers worked Geonhak open.

Then Geonhak pushed his body up, supporting himself on his knees. Youngjo's fingers slipped out of him, and they felt chilly rendered in sudden contact with the air. Geonhak let go of their cocks and pushed Youngjo onto his back, keeping his hands on Youngjo's strong chest so that his fingers brushed against the bumps of Youngjo's nipples as he shuffled himself forward. 

Geonhak's hand reached behind and under, held Youngjo in place as he sank down over him. Geonhak's eyes were heavy with his pretty lashes, his wings spread wide, his fangs glinting lethally as huffs of air passed through his lips, his body like a bowstring, taut, controlled, but pliable.

A shuddering breath pushed its way out of Youngjo's lungs at the sensation of Geonhak's body around him. It was tight and hot and more intimate than it had been before, their pretenses now having been bared before them. It was so painfully good and Youngjo's fingers tightened on Geonhak's hips, involuntary, before he loosened them and slid his hands down to the curve of Geonhak's ass. If Youngjo's grip had hurt, Geonhak gave no indication. Instead, he drew himself up a little with visible effort before sinking back down; then again. His hands pressed down on Youngjo's chest rhythmically as he hoisted his weight up and down, and Youngjo's hips stuttered upwards to meet Geonhak's efforts in their tense, emotional fuck. 

Geonhak was trembling.

His body, carried with its defensive tightness, was like the vibrating strings of a gayageum. Youngjo wanted to find its resistance and watch the strings snap.

He reached up and tugged Geonhak down, their noses brushing and mouths angling into a kiss. Geonhak leaned into the kiss, pressing his weight forward onto Youngjo. Youngjo's hand slid over the side of Geonhak's neck, his thumb resting over Geonhak's racing pulse, his fingers slipping into the Valkyrie's hair. The movements of Geonhak's hips had slowed, almost as if in fatigue, and his breaths were laboured against Youngjo's lips.

"Geonhak-ah," Youngjo said, looking up into the bluish violet of Geonhak's eyes. "Bite me."

Geonhak's eyes widened, caught off-guard. 

Youngjo watched the battle in Geonhak's eyes, felt the succumbing in the Valkyrie's entire body as he lowered his gaze from Youngjo's. The tip of his nose grazed Youngjo's skin in soft whispers as his head travelled down to Youngjo's collarbone. 

Youngjo felt the hesitant scratch of Geonhak's incisors over his skin before he felt them dig down and cut into the soft, unprotected flesh above his clavicle. 

Geonhak made a quiet sound that was part satisfaction, part relief.

There was something about the taboo act of finally being bitten that made Youngjo feel empowered. Even in such a vulnerable position, Youngjo felt his excitement increase. 

Youngjo kept his body still, though they were still connected at the tip and he wanted, badly, to thrust up and bury himself back entirely in the warm folds of Geonhak's body. Instead, he reached a hand through the space between their bodies to curl his fingers around Geonhak's cock, hard and a little wet at the tip.

Geonhak’s body gave a short, checked jolt at the contact, and Youngjo felt a tug where Geonhak's fangs were still hooked into his skin, the rush of air when Geonhak inhaled in a quick sharp hiss. 

Geonhak's fingers, which had been resting on Youngjo's shoulder and bicep, dug slightly into flesh before effortfully relaxing again. Youngjo began moving his hand around Geonhak's cock, giving it teasing tugs and flirting caresses. 

As it had been back in the first few nights together, he was attuned to the most understated reactions of Geonhak's body, the tensing and unfurling of his pleasure.

Geonhak's clutch on Youngjo was almost painful when he came, his body stiffening before becoming overtaken by the physicality of his climax. Liquid warmth spilled onto Youngjo's stomach and slipped over his fingers, smearing. 

Youngjo's other hand came around Geonhak's back, tracing his fingers carefully over the soft feathers of Geonhak’s wings before they quickly disappeared again. He stopped over Geonhak’s nape, fingertips carding through fine snowy hair. He held Geonhak carefully to him, held himself unmoving against the tide of arousal rising inside of him at the feeling of Geonhak so undone against him.

Geonhak extricated his fangs from beneath Youngjo's flesh with a quiet, wet gasp, and for a moment he simply kept his face half-buried in the space between Youngjo’s neck and shoulder. The sensation of Geonhak's tongue licking over and around the fresh wounds on Youngjo's skin was tantalising, almost incongruously innocent. After Geonhak had cleaned the punctures to his satisfaction, he turned his head and paused only barely before closing his lips over the lobe of Youngjo's ear.

It seemed, having nourished himself adequately from Youngjo's powerful blood, Geonhak was feeling unexpectedly, playful. And Youngjo tried very hard to keep still as Geonhak kissed and licked and bit down on his ear, lightly and breaking no skin, but it took only a few moments for him to tilt his head helplessly away and laugh.

Geonhak pulled back. Their faces were still close. Geonhak's eyes were back to their pure, intoxicating blue, no longer showing any hint of red. He said, "Are you—ticklish?" 

Youngjo met his eyes, the ghost of a playful smirk still on his mouth. "Yes."

He watched in something akin to wonder as a responding smile seemed to play on Geonhak's face. He thought he saw a spark in Geonhak's eyes. Youngjo opened his mouth to say something, but then promptly forgot what it was because Geonhak leaned up and sat back and took Youngjo into his body in one luxurious slide. Youngjo let out a surprised moan instead.

"Yes," said Geonhak, his eyes closing briefly. He sounded like he felt just as wrecked but was mustering as much control as he could manage.

A light tug was the only warning Youngjo gave before he reversed their positions, setting Geonhak's back against the mattress as he pushed into Geonhak's body, still pliant after his recent release. 

Geonhak's back arched, and an abrupt cry slipped past his lips before he pressed them tightly together and blushed, Youngjo thought, rather endearingly.

Feeling ridiculously fond, Youngjo leaned down and kissed him, and it took scarcely any prodding for Geonhak's lips to open beneath his.

Beyond the doors to this room were soldiers readying for a potential war. Beyond the hours of the night, preparations awaited them, their kingdoms hanging in precarious balance. 

There were questions Youngjo wanted to ask, questions that would simultaneously hurt and soothe, break and heal. Those came after.

Geonhak's arms went around Youngjo's neck, his wrists rested on Youngjo's shoulders. When the rhythm of Youngjo's hips stammered, approaching that sought-after relief, Geonhak lifted his legs, hooked his ankles over Youngjo's hip bone, and pulled Youngjo in close, deep, pushing his own hips downwards to meet Youngjo's.

Geonhak's eyes were resolutely open, his breath once more shallow, and Youngjo came apart lost in the depths of the beautiful blue of those eyes, Geonhak's name broken on his lips. A tremor ran through him, gathering momentum, then he was shuddering, his body pulsing, and somehow there was enough left of his mind to process Geonhak's nails digging into his shoulders, the Valkyrie's voice saying his name, "Youngjo," and then, "Youngjo-Hyung," Geonhak's body an echoing shudder, a mirror of the pleasure rolling through Youngjo.

They were still staring into each other's eyes when their breathing returned to normal and their pulses slowed, and the kiss that followed was a gentle caress. It was almost chaste. It was bitter, and it was sweeter than anything Youngjo had ever tasted.

Had he more confidence, he might have been murmuring I love you into Geonhak’s lips. The Valkyrie prince was the one he wanted beside him, ruling the kingdom. 

There were scars between them, there were wounds in their memory. They held the weights of their kingdoms and their pasts.

Before Geonhak, he hadn’t known what it truly meant to love someone. 

He felt Geonhak's fingers in his hair, the drying stickiness between their bodies.  
He said, "Geonhak-ah," into the kiss.

They had always been good at leaving the truth unspoken. The kiss they shared spoke more than words. Youngjo knew that even from afar, Geonhak would be his partner. 

They would rule together. 

—————

This is an arc I might continue...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOUNGJO ❤️❤️💙💙❤️❤️


End file.
